En.Citatepedia^®.ro

A Soldier's Dream

Last night as I toasted
My wet feet and roasted
A small bit of beef by a similar blaze,
While nought but the wheezings,
The snorings, and sneezings
Of comrades grouping in Dreamland's haze
Disturbed the fine vision -
The picture Elysian -
That Fancy's weird wand conjured up to my thought,
As she stood like a spooke,
In a garb of blue smoke,
And amid the hot embers her wonders she wrought.

Adown a highway
We were marching so gay
An army with banners bedecked o'er and o'er
With the brightest garlands
Wove by fairest of hands,
While a flaming bouquet stuck in each musket bore.
Each triumphal arch
It met on the march
Was blazoned with 'Peace'; 'Welcome home each loved one';
While maid, wife, and mother
Would with rapture discover
And rush out to meet lover, husband, and son!

I forgot all my sore toes -
Nay, all of my woes -
As I sprang to the threshold and clasped her dear waist;
And every campaign
I'd gone over again
To get from those ripe lips another such taste.
But as I flew to her
I dropped my fine skewer,
And with it my supper. I mastered my grief
As the vanishing vision
of joy's Elysian,
But I couldn't get over the loss of the beef!

poem by Anonymous Americas
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We Got The Beef

Had ourselves a little barbeque
Corn on the cob and mashed potatoes too
Joe got the fritos, ernie got the stew
So what did you bring
We got the beef
We got the beef
We got the beef
Yeah, we got it
(we got the beef)
Now, everybody get on your feet (we got the beef)
Grab a hunk of ? ? ? beef (we got the beef)
Chuck daddy (we got the beef)
Now, ground round by the pound
We got the beef (we got the beef)
We got the beef (we got the beef, we got the beef)
We got the beef (we got the beef, we got the)
We got the beef

song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Musician's Tale; The Mother's Ghost

Svend Dyring he rideth adown the glade;
I myself was young!
There he hath wooed him so winsome a maid;
Fair words gladden so many a heart.
Together were they for seven years,
And together children six were theirs.
Then came Death abroad through the land,
And blighted the beautiful lily-wand.
Svend Dyring he rideth adown the glade,
And again hath he wooed him another maid,
He hath wooed him a maid and brought home a bride,
But she was bitter and full of pride.
When she came driving into the yard,
There stood the six children weeping so hard.
There stood the small children with sorrowful heart;
From before her feet she thrust them apart.
She gave to them neither ale nor bread;
'Ye shall suffer hunger and hate,' she said.
She took from them their quilts of blue,
And said: 'Ye shall lie on the straw we strew.'
She took from them the great waxlight;
'Now ye shall lie in the dark at night.'
In the evening late they cried with cold;
The mother heard it under the mould.
The woman heard it the earth below:
'To my little children I must go.'
She standeth before the Lord of all:
'And may I go to my children small?'
She prayed him so long, and would not cease,
Until he bade her depart in peace.
'At cock-crow thou shalt return again;
Longer thou shalt not there remain!'
She girded up her sorrowful bones,
And rifted the walls and the marble stones.
As through the village she flitted by,
The watch-dogs howled aloud to the sky.
When she came to the castle gate,
There stood her eldest daughter in wait.
'Why standest thou here, dear daughter mine?
How fares it with brothers and sisters thine?'
'Never art thou mother of mine,
For my mother was both fair and fine.
'My mother was white, with cheeks of red,
But thou art pale, and like to the dead.'
'How should I be fair and fine?
I have been dead; pale cheeks are mine.
'How should I be white and red,
So long, so long have I been dead?'
When she came in at the chamber door,
There stood the small children weeping sore.
One she braided, another she brushed,
The third she lifted, the fourth she hushed.
The fifth she took on her lap and pressed,
As if she would suckle it at her breast.
Then to her eldest daughter said she,
'Do thou bid Svend Dyring come hither to me.'
Into the chamber when he came
She spake to him in anger and shame.
'I left behind me both ale and bread;
My children hunger and are not fed.
'I left behind me quilts of blue;
My children lie on the straw ye strew.
'I left behind me the great waxlight;
My children lie in the dark at night.
'If I come again unto your hall,
As cruel a fate shall you befall!
'Now crows the cock with feathers red;
Back to the earth must all the dead.
'Now crows the cock with feathers swart;
The gates of heaven fly wide apart.
'Now crows the cock with feathers white;
I can abide no longer to-night.'
Whenever they heard the watch-dogs wail,
They gave the children bread and ale.
Whenever they heard the watch-dogs bay,
They feared lest the dead were on their way.
Whenever they heard the watch-dogs bark;
I myself was young!
They feared the dead out there in the dark.
Fair words gladden so many a heart.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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She has run out without hat from the house

Humoresque

He was passive, loved humility,
She loved a joyful life,
It caused in him anxiety,
And irritation could not it hidden …

She has wanted to play on a guitar,
The fine lady searched for an adventure,
The husband was disturbed, has begun to smoke a cigar,
Took from bank the big credit …

She has run out without a hat from the house,
Charm of the men, flaring dreams …
The husband 'has revolted', has run in a casino,
He has put all the credit, on colour of her plaid …

The destiny has played, the «'The passive'» has won,
He became similar to the skilled player …
About habits of the wife, laughed vulgarly,
Though He was 'raised' on red plaid …

poem by Gioom Galen
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Togetherness Is Gone

My wife,
Stop cleaning the house
Please come here
To accompany me

My husband,
The house is dirty
We aren't able to pay the maid
You've already retired

My wife,
Don't cook
It's a holiday
Let us eat outside the home

My husband,
Don't eat outdoors
We need efficient
You've already retired

My wife,
Let's keep me company
Why the rush to sleep
It's still early

My husband,
I have to get up early
To clean the house
And prepare breakfast

My wife,
I have to go this morning
My friends were waiting
Long we don't meet

My husband,
Be careful on the road
Greetings for your friends
But, why not breakfast?

My wife,
You have fallen asleep last night
I see you sleeping soundly all
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I'm sorry
I don't welcome you home
But, why should sleep on the sofa?

My wife,
I have to go again
I have social activities
With my old friends

My husband,
Don't forget dinner at home
You look very dapper
Although not wear perfume

My wife,
sorry, we were very busy
I had dinner with friends
Happy dinner, dear

My husband,
I woke up too early
But you're not at home
Where are you?

My wife,
I came home at midnight
I have to go early in the morning
I don't have the heart to wake you

My husband,
I just finished washing clothes
I've found the clothes that you wear today
But, why the smell of perfume?

poem by Hasanudin Sofyan
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My Mother

Who was always there when I needed her most?
Who always made the best beef roast?
Who was always there for me to talk to,
when ever I was feeling down and very blue?
When In trouble, who got me out of it?
Still she loved me, even when I had a fit.
She would hug me and say, 'Don't worry,
take your time and don't hurry.'
When ever I said, 'I can't do it.'
She replied, 'Yes you can, don't worry a bit'.
When I left home, she cried and said 'Good bye,
then, said she, 'Now remember don't lie'
Someday, sometime or another,
I will see you again, dear old Mother.

poem by Jim Foulk
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Can You Turn?

Can you turn from the sword
that invites-please
'Hang upon me? '

Or shrink back from the
boasting pool that whispers
'Jump'

But I am afraid of blood which
makes me sick
Scalding water on tender skin-

It is terrible, terrible, terrible

Faith is useless here:
I tell you this, it is no illusion

The blood is real and so is the bubbling water

Look carefully:
Behind the road you trod;
rubbed out

Do you believe me?
Look at me!

'Speaking'

But you couldn't... trees they
Were too thick.. they went by
Chanting, chanting, chanting:
It's fine It's fine It's fine
Jump in, jump in, jump in -

But I'm already - splashing, splashing, splashing

Must I beat my way to the riverbank
to prove I'm wet

Outrage danced on my lips, that
Sputtered and danced

Can You Turn?

And around the bend came the
voices fainter and fainter
'the water - the water - the water
is fine
jump in- jump in - jump in-

And no more I was free! !
I dipped my hand in the water
And the drops ran out of
my fingers - the sun lit
into my throat -

What a wonderful, wonderful day
for knowing I thought

'What a wonderful, wonderful place for swimming'

I murmured
And it was true: the water
was cream and silk

The sky was bright as disaster
Suppose they came back?
Suppose they came back!
Was the mutter that crinkled the
edges of being

But the water smoothed in
over the sunshine

'False friends' 'Deceitful loves'
Who has not known these
the world over?

Does it then blot out the sun! ? !
And dry up the river?

Can You Turn?

Jump in, my dear, my dears
my dears-

The water is fine, it's fine, it's
fine
The water- the water- the water

The whisper is treading water
with no body
and not convinced -
But I will learn
I will Learn.... I will learn

Some day I may lead the
chanters myself

Yes it's well to have marching
feet and banners
Even with this

'The water is fine, jump in, '
they cried

Its fine, its fine, its fine
jump in- jump in- jump in

'But I'm already in, ' I screamed
'can't you see, can't you see,
can't you see? '

poem by Isabelle Cooper
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The big question

Sex is this wondrous, marvellous thing
that the young discover
and bring home to mother

Mother, of course, only ever indulged
that night that the light bulb
blew up in the lounge.

She never enjoyed anything quite so rude,
she just thought of England
or made us beef stew.

Sex is reserved for the young, so it seems,
their mothers don't do it
it's far too obscene.

What about fathers, perhaps, do you think?
Do fathers all do it?
Ask mum in a tick!

Mother denies it; she says it's not true!
Then how come she gave birth
to me and to you?

poem by Ruth Walters
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Beef is beef, you know. Beef comes, so Beef is real.

quote by Obie Trice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Is A Mother

She is a mother, but not a wife
In the arms of another, her passion lies

Why can't her husband make her feel that way?
So lost in his own life they live day to day
Passing each other like ships in the night
And he longs to hold her but it doesn't feel right

There came a man with arms so strong
Who spoke to her heart in lyric and song
And though her passion was dim glowing embers
The fire roars again as he makes her remember

She lay at peace, in his arms, in his bed,
Until a vision troubled her head
She saw the eyes of her little ones
So out of his house to her children she runs

She cries when she thinks of his arms around her
But nothing is worth this love that surrounds her
She opens her eyes and though feeling alone
She looks in their eyes and she knows she is home

She is a mother, but not a wife
In the eyes of her children, her true love lies

poem by Wakefield Mahon
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A Soldier's Valentine

Just from the sentry's tramp
(I must take it again at ten),
I have laid my musket down,
And seized instead my pen;
For, pacing my lonely round
In the chilly twilight gray,
The thought, dear Mary, came,
That this is St. Valentine's Day.

And with the thought there came
A glimpse of the happy time
When a school-boy's first attempt
I sent you, in borrowed rhyme,
On a gilt-edged sheet, embossed
With many a quaint design,
And signed, in school-boy hand,
'Your loving Valentine.'

The years have come and gone,-
Have flown, I know not where, -
And the school-boy's merry face
Is grave with manhood's care;
But the heart of the man still beats
At the well-remembered name,
And on this St. Valentine's Day
His choice is still the same.

There was a time- ah, well!
Think not that I repine
When I dreamed this happy day
Would smile on you as mine;
But I heard my country's call;
I knew her need was sore.
Thank God, no selfish thought
Withheld me from the war.

But when the dear old flag
Shall float in its ancient pride,
When the twain shall be made one,
And feuds no more divide,-
I will lay my musket down,
My martial garb resign,
And turn my joyous feet
Toward home and Valentine.

poem by Horatio Alger Jr
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Conscripts

‘Fall in, that awkward squad, and strike no more
Attractive attitudes! Dress by the right!
The luminous rich colours that you wore
Have changed to hueless khaki in the night.
Magic? What’s magic got to do with you?
There’s no such thing! Blood’s red, and skies are blue.’

They gasped and sweated, marching up and down.
I drilled them till they cursed my raucous shout.
Love chucked his lute away and dropped his crown.
Rhyme got sore heels and wanted to fall out.
‘Left, right! Press on your butts!’ They looked at me
Reproachful; how I longed to set them free!

I gave them lectures on Defence, Attack;
They fidgeted and shuffled, yawned and sighed,
And boggled at my questions. Joy was slack,
And Wisdom gnawed his fingers, gloomy-eyed.
Young Fancy—how I loved him all the while—
Stared at his note-book with a rueful smile.

Their training done, I shipped them all to France,
Where most of those I’d loved too well got killed.
Rapture and pale Enchantment and Romance,
And many a sickly, slender lord who’d filled
My soul long since with lutanies of sin,
Went home, because they couldn’t stand the din.

But the kind, common ones that I despised
(Hardly a man of them I’d count as friend),
What stubborn-hearted virtues they disguised!
They stood and played the hero to the end,
Won gold and silver medals bright with bars,
And marched resplendent home with crowns and stars.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Brandy

There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes
And there's a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin' whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine
The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of the man that Brandy loves
He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home
The sailor said " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor stories
She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who's not around
She still can hear him say
She hears him say " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)
"Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
FADE
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea

song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ring

Words and music by bob seger
By the light of the moon
To a 50s tune
He pledged his love to her
A girl so rare
A girl so fair
The girl for him for sure
He could see himself getting up every mornin
For the rest of his life
Just to look in those eyes so blue
It was all he ever wanted to do
She was all hed ever need to see him through
They were still in their teens
When he gave her the ring
They were married late one may
And they moved into a little house
On the far end of town
Out by the big highway
And all through the days
And all through the nights
The cars and trucks rolled on by
And he slept through it all just fine
Every night he slept just fine
Sometimes shed stare at the stars out the window
Sometimes shed walk 'neath the moon
Sometimes shed sit there just watching him sleeping
Hoping the dawn would come soon
Shed done well in school
Shed followed the rules
And shed always stood out from the rest
Shed go off to college
And work her way through
Then move to some city out west
She had it all planned
Shed have her career
Shed have all of the things that shed always lacked
Shed wake up one morning all packed
And leave here and never look back
Most of her friends thought it soon would be over
Not many thought it would last
Most seemed to think they were all wrong for each other
And soon it would pass - soon it would pass
Now twenty years have gone
And her kids have moved on
And shes still on the far end of town
Her youngest ­ shes livin somewhere in l.a.
And her oldest he works on a nearby farm
Her husband comes home
And they talk over supper
Hes usually the first to turn in
Another day comes to an end
Another day just ends
And sometimes in the wee hours when the traffic dies down
Shell hear the sound of some bird on the wing
And shell look out the window and shell look at his picture
But not at the ring not at the ring
She never looks at the ring

song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go Limp

Alex comfort, nina simone
Oh daughter, dear daughter,
Take warning from me
And dont you go marching
With the n-a-a-c-p.
For theyll rock you and roll you
And shove you into bed.
And if they steal your nuclear secret
Youll wish you were dead.
(refrain:)
Singin too roo la, too roo la, too roo li ay.
Singin too roo la, too roo la, too roo li ay.
Oh mother, dear mother,
No, Im not afraid.
For Ill go on that march
And Ill return a virgin maid.
With a brick in my handbag
And a smile on my face
And barbed wire in my underwear
To shed off disgrace.
(refrain)
One day they were marching.
A young man came by
With a beard on his cheek
And a gleam in his eye.
And before she had time
To remember her brick...
They were holding a sit-down
On a nearby hay rig.
(refrain)
For meeting is pleasure
And parting is pain.
And if I have a great concert
Maybe I wont have to sing those folk songs again.
Oh mother, dear mother
Im stiff and Im sore
From sleeping three nights
On a hard classroom floor.
(refrain)
One day at the briefing
Shed heard a man say,
Go perfectly limp,
And be carried away.
So when this young man suggested
It was time she was kissed,
She remembered her brief
And did not resist.
(refrain)
Oh mother, dear mother,
No need for distress,
For the young man has left me
His name and address.
And if we win
Tho a baby there be,
He wont have to march
Like his da-da and me.

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shake Hands With Beef

Theres a time for lies and a time for truth.
I say, eye for an eye, eye for a tooth.
When I roamed young, Id scavenge around.
Every nook and cranny of our little town.
Its nice, so nice, to be.
Pull out the cannon boys, steal us some wine.
Puff tijuana smalls. shake hands with beef!
Shes so fine, shes so sweet.
Mom and pop they raised her on huge slabs of meat.
Shes fine, a man of nine, water derby day.
Twenty six pumps on a crossman, and its time to play
Its nice, so nice, to be
Pull out the cannon boys, steal us some wine
Puff tijuana smalls. shake hands with beef!

song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marzo Pazzo

Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread,
Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn's arch
Hails re-risen again from the dead
Mad March.

Soft small flames on rowan and larch
Break forth as laughter on lips that said
Nought till the pulse in them beat love's march.

But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red
Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch
Bring April forth as a bride to wed
Mad March.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Vanishing Race

(graham russell, michael sherwood, larry antonio)
Sun, I cant slow you down
Run, build on sacred ground
All of the leaves have blown away
Ghosts on a distant highway
In a vanishing race
Sleep, if your eyes must close
Weep, over a poisoned rose
Soon all the tears will blow away
Dust on a distant highway
In the vanishing race
Fly, closer to the sun
Fight, till your world is one
Soon all the stars will burn away
Ghosts on a different highway
In the vanishing race
Oh, shall we sleep tonight
Oh, when theres no hope in sight
Take all your dreams and drive away
Smoke on a distant highway
From the vanishing race
All my people
Respect your mother earth
Thank you for this life and this breath
And all my peoples strength

song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sore Loser

You tried out for the high school team
So you would have some childhood dreams
That you and your father could share
Football coach said you're too small
Don't even think of basketball
You knew you were destined to fail

Went to the track meet
You wanna be an athlete (sore loser)
Get back in your seat they said
Go to the dugout
Three strikes you stuck out (sore loser)
And home runs flew over your head

Looking down on rock n' roll
And you dreamed of scoring goals
You're saving those dreams for your bed
Thought it was cool to be a jock
You ended up a rent-a-cop
A dozen donuts in your hand

You're a loser
A sore loser

Now it seems the tables turned
The game of life you should have learned
So try using some of your brains
All your high school friends are stars
Driving really fancy cars
The irony drives you insane

song performed by by Dog Eat Dog from Play Games
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Welcome To Lowell

Take our hands, James Russell Lowell,
Our hearts are all thy own;
To-day we bid thee welcome
Not for ourselves alone.

In the long years of thy absence
Some of us have grown old,
And some have passed the portals
Of the Mystery untold;

For the hands that cannot clasp thee,
For the voices that are dumb,
For each and all I bid thee
A grateful welcome home!

For Cedarcroft's sweet singer
To the nine-fold Muses dear;
For the Seer the winding Concord
Paused by his door to hear;

For him, our guide and Nestor,
Who the march of song began,
The white locks of his ninety years
Bared to thy winds, Cape Ann!

For him who, to the music
Her pines and hemlocks played,
Set the old and tender story
Of the lorn Acadian maid;

For him, whose voice for freedom
Swayed friend and foe at will,
Hushed is the tongue of silver,
The golden lips are still!

For her whose life of duty
At scoff and menace smiled,
Brave as the wife of Roland,
Yet gentle as a Child.

And for him the three-hilled city
Shall hold in memory long,
Those name is the hint and token
Of the pleasant Fields of Song!

For the old friends unforgotten,
For the young thou hast not known,
I speak their heart-warm greeting;
Come back and take thy own!

From England's royal farewells,
And honors fitly paid,
Come back, dear Russell Lowell,
To Elmwood's waiting shade!

Come home with all the garlands
That crown of right thy head.
I speak for comrades living,
I speak for comrades dead!

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Obituary: To My Beloved Parents

My Dear Dad:
From humble beginnings, my dad
Rose up by sheer struggle in life,
And turned a teacher to serve God,
Uncorrupted and straightforward.

He kept God first, within his heart,
And did his earthly duty, part
Unflinchingly, undauntedly,
And showed the world, his love for Christ!

Oh, what a fine man, my dad was!
He loved his brethren like himself;
He did not care for his own life;
He did his part for sake of Christ.

The wealth he made was his children;
His air of pride was his good wife;
He smiled while facing life’s troubles;
He bore his cross and followed Christ.

He stood steadfast in honesty;
He taught the pupil worst in class;
He towered high with confidence;
He would not dither from his God.

My Dear Mum:
And in his task, his wife joined him,
A pious lady from the start;
She did her duty to husband
And children without second thought.

She loved her family members all,
And kept the harmony intact;
She prayed fervently throughout life,
And waded safely through all strife.

A workaholic, all her life,
She helped her children’s assignments,
Encouraging souls all alike,
To walk on ‘heaven’s road on earth’.

She was a lovely mum and wife;
She eased her bread-winner’s worries;
She loved to do much charity;
She lived beyond ninety-three age!

We children are so proud of both;
They earned their heaven here on earth;
They both lived exemplary lives;
We pray we’ll meet in God’s abode!

God, make that day soon possible;
The life on earth worthlessly goes;
Oh, how we wish to see and speak
To dad and mum, in heav’n above!

Dedicated to my dear dad, (late) A.T.Antoniswami,
And dear mum, (late) Stella Thangamarie

Copyright by Dr John Celes 24-06-2010

poem by John Celes
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